


A Waltz of Misconceptions

by AlyAngel



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M, Misunderstandings, Numair is oblivious as oblivious can be but we still love him, everyone is the same age for convenience, non-graphic reference to a past sexual harrassment incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:35:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28838640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyAngel/pseuds/AlyAngel
Summary: Thom and Numair may have been living with each other for three years, but neither of them think they have any chance at dating the other. Thom has all the reason to believe Numair is straight as straight can be, and Numair... well, no one but Numair knows what Numair's problem is. It's probably something ridiculous, knowing him.Alanna decides she's tired of watching them waltz around each other and plots to deliver Thom as Numair's birthday present. Alex thinks that's a horrible idea and starts looking for a chance to get them together before that so to spare his best friend's pride.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Numair Salmalín/Thom of Trebond
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Prelude

It had been a rather peaceful night at the Dancing Dove for a Saturday-into-Sunday shift at the only gay bar on this side of Corus. The only potential incident of the night was averted by Alex getting the lady in question’s attention and warning her that the redhead at the bar she was gathering up the nerve to flirt with was actually the _owner’s wife_. (Thom would almost certainly pout at him when he’d inevitably tell Thom about it, because Thom would have wanted him to let the lady get away with it so he would have something to tease his twin sister with. Alex would remind him in return that he _needed_ this job, because who else would hire someone with _his_ history but his best friend’s brother-in-law? Getting into disputes with Alanna was the last thing he needed to do right now.)

The redhead in question was sitting at the bar, hissing at her husband like an angry lioness. Whatever had Alanna angry at George like that for, Alex was glad to not be the target of it. He just wanted to finish mopping the floor in peace so he could go home and _sleep_.

Eventually, though, she hissed loud enough for Alex to hear. “It’s ridiculous, George! They’ve been crushing on each other for three years and they haven’t done anything about it _why_?!”

Alex snorted. _That’s_ what had Alanna in a pet? Thom and Thom’s roommate Numair waltzing about each other under the misconception that… well, Alex knew Thom thought Numair was straight, which considering Numair’s dating history and the incident of two years ago was quite understandable even if it was utterly untrue. He had no idea what was holding Numair back, though. It wasn’t like Numair didn’t know Thom was gay; Thom came out of the closet at the start of high school and has never gone back inside it.

George had pointed that out to her, too. “Isn’t that right, Alex?”

Alex stopped and sighed. Great. Now he was being pulled into this conversation. “Yes, and I would have thought the same thing if I had never seen how stupidly besotted Numair is with Thom. Don’t bother asking me what Numair’s problem is—we’re not friends.” _Now please let me just go back to work..._

George chuckled. “Knowin’ him, it’ll be somethin’ silly that only Numair would think of and will make us all laugh when we find out.”

Alanna huffed. “Oh, forget the _why_! They need to stop beating around the bush and kiss already, and since _they’re_ not going to do anything, _we_ need to do something to _make_ them.”

A chill ran up Alex’s spine as soon as those words left Alanna’s mouth. She was plotting to get Thom and Numair together. Alanna, whose latest plot to get Raoul and Buri to realize they were into each other was to “accidentally” only book single bed hotel rooms on their winter ski trip (which failed because Raoul caught a cold the day before they were supposed to leave). Alanna, who had decided that the _perfect_ time to introduce Thayet and Jon was when Jon was drunk and sobbing over some soap opera. Alanna playing matchmaker was almost always dangerous for her victims’ pride. This was going to be a nightmare, wasn’t it?

“So, what do you have in mind?” George asked carefully. Alex couldn’t blame him—he had to balance between being the voice of reason and avoiding getting kicked out onto the couch.

Alanna hummed. “I was thinking of wrapping Thom up as Numair’s birthday present.”

Alex groaned at that suggestion. Yes, that was an Alanna matchmaking plot alright. There was absolutely no way that would work. Even if Thom was willing to put up with a lot of crap from his twin sister, sitting still so she could wrap him up as a birthday present for his roommate—his roommate who, again, Thom was understandably convinced was straight—was not one of those things. Alanna would try, though, if George didn’t convince her of that. Alex had known her for far too damn long to think she wouldn't try her damnedest to get Thom wrapped up in gift wrap.

“I want no part in this,” Alex grumbled, returning to mopping the floor.

Thankfully, George and Alanna left him to it after that. The bits of conversation he picked up afterwards, though, told him that George was not having any success at all at convincing Alanna that her plan was ridiculous.

Alex sighed. The things he was willing to do for Thom… He’d thwart Alanna’s plan somehow himself. He just needed to sleep on it first.


	2. First Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thom sees Numair without a shirt for the first time, is thirst incarnate, and makes bad decisions which Alex enables because he sees an opportunity in them.

Thom, as he had every Monday since this semester started, came home to his apartment utterly miserable. It was the kind of miserable that left him sorely tempted to bury his face into his roommate Numair’s chest, for all that was an absolutely horrible idea. Oh, sure, Numair was enough of a sap that he’d indulge Thom, but that was besides the point. There were simply boundaries you _shouldn’t_ cross as a gay man with a straight man as a roommate, especially when you were _extremely attracted_ to said roommate.

Just the sight of Numair’s goofy grin would have to do. Thom poked his head into the kitchen just for that, only to blink because Numair wasn’t in there like he usually was when Thom came home. Thom thought for a moment, then remembered Numair had mentioned something about having a meeting today. Maybe it ran over and Numair hadn’t gotten back yet? 

Thom sighed. Oh well—he’d live. Rather than worrying about it, Thom headed towards his bedroom.

He had just walked into the hallway when the bathroom door swung open, admitting Numair into the hall as well.

Thom halted and stared. Numair wasn’t wearing a shirt. Numair had never gone without a shirt in front of Thom before, so Thom had never seen the muscles hidden beneath his clothes, though he did know they were there. Numair frequented the same gym as Alex, and Alex just loved to mock Thom with descriptions of Numair’s muscles the days Alex and Numair were actually at the gym at the same time, which never failed to get under Thom’s skin in a way that only a best friend who was also an ex-boyfriend could manage. Alex hadn’t been kidding when he said Numair’s muscles were a feast for the eyes, but then again, of course they were—Numair had admitted once to Thom that the muscles were one hundred percent put on out of vanity. Thom was quite jealous in the moment of all the ladies who had the ability to get more than an _accidental_ glimpse of those lovely pecs and abs—who had the ability to fully feast their eyes and hands (and maybe even their lips and tongues) upon them just like he wished he could do right now.

To make matters worse, Numair didn’t even have his pants completely zipped up or buttoned— _gods would it be so easy to strip them off of him._ His hair was still loosely hanging over his shoulders, droplets of water sliding off of it and down his chest—oh how did Thom want to reach up, run his fingers through those raven locks, then tug down on them so he could reach Numair’s lips with his own. The whole sight of him reminded Thom of the men on the covers of those trashy romance novels Alanna used to read as a teen—the ones who were such delectable eye candy that they were the subject of Thom’s earliest sexual fantasies. 

Numair wasn’t a model on the cover of a trashy romance novel, though. He was a real and tangible human being with his own thoughts and feelings. Thom had absolutely no business devouring his _straight male_ roommate with his eyes. He tilted his head up, trying to balance between comfort and getting as much of Numair’s chest out of his vision. (Completely avoiding it was impossible, after all, when his face was level with Numair’s pecs.)

Numair was completely out of it, too, because only then did he finally turn towards Thom. Numair jumped at the sight of him; he clearly wasn’t expecting anyone at all to be there.

“Oh, Thom! Welcome back.” He sighed, then gave Thom a strained smile. “Sorry for not greeting you sooner. That meeting was such a complete and utter disaster that my mind has been in a completely different realm since I left it.”

“As if your mind is ever in the right realm,” Thom ribbed him. “And why are you even apologizing for not greeting me at the door? I thought I made my thoughts on _that_ particular trope clear when you forced me to marathon that stupid romcom with you last month.”

That brought a genuine laugh and smile out of Numair. Thom couldn’t help but smile back. Numair had such a warm and rich laugh that it never failed to resonate through the foulest of Thom’s moods.

“Now that you mention it, I _do_ recall you saying that it was creepy rather than romantic that the housewife was always standing by the door when her husband came home. Although, I don’t see how that’s creepy and me almost consistently being in the kitchen and greeting you when you get back from college isn’t.” After a brief pause, Numair quickly added, “Us not being a married couple besides, of course.”

As if Numair actually needed to clarify that.

“The difference is that you’re _actively_ _making dinner_ when I get home,” Thom said. “The housewife on the other hand is just loitering by the door, waiting to fulfill her husband’s stupid romantic fantasy. Either she’s GPS tracking her husband’s phone to figure out when to go to the door—I hope I don’t need to tell you _that’s_ utterly fucked up—or she’d have to set an alarm to wait by the door until he gets home. Gods forbid he gets stuck in traffic for over an hour and she’s just sitting there twiddling her thumbs the whole time.” He clenched his hands to keep from poking Numair in the bare stomach. That was a dangerous temptation to indulge. “Besides, that whole ‘do you want dinner, a bath, or me’ spiel makes the housewife come off as a doormat. What if _she’s_ tired from the rigors of housework and just wants to order a pizza, watch TV, and then go to bed that night? Is she going to just suck it up to make her husband and nobody else happy?”

“I suppose I see your point…” Numair shook his head. “Speaking of dinner, it’s either stew or spaghetti. Are you wanting to eat soon, or are you willing to wait for stew?”

Thom gulped. With the way his lust was stewing the longer this conversation went on, he _definitely_ did not want to see Numair slurping up spaghetti. The decision was already made for him. “I had a late lunch, so stew is fine.”

Numair grinned. “Very well. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

Numair went around Thom, and Thom’s eyes couldn’t help but linger on Numair’s retreating figure. It was a good thing he did, too—Numair walked right past the door to his bedroom.

“Numair? Aren’t you forgetting something?” Thom called out to him.

Numair turned back to him, his mouth turned in a confused pout. “Not that I know of. _Am_ I forgetting something?”

“A shirt?”

Numair looked down, and his face bloomed with a blush as he realized that he was indeed shirtless. “ _Fuck_.”

Numair fled into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Thom blinked at that—had Numair ever slammed a door before?—then shook his head. Numair probably didn’t mean to slam the door; he was just flustered and panicked. Thom took in a deep breath and retreated into his own room.

Thom _tried_ to get his mind off of Numair’s shirtlessness by opening up his master’s thesis on his computer. Particle filters weren’t sexy and had absolutely no place in any lustful fantasies he might have, after all. He rested his hands on the keyboard, preparing to type…

Nothing. Forever had seemingly passed (a glance at the on-screen clock said it had only been fifteen minutes) and Thom was still staring at the blinking cursor because he couldn’t think of anything _but_ how much he wanted Numair under him so he could give those muscles the attention they deserved.

Thom took a deep breath. Maybe he should start with editing what he had already written first. He scrolled up to the top of the document, then started to skim through it. He made all of the changes he noticed he needed to make just fine, but he was all too aware the whole time that his mind wasn’t really in it. When he got to the end, he stared at the document again blankly.

After another fifteen minutes of staring, Thom pushed his keyboard out of the way—he didn’t need to erase pages of keyboard smashes from his thesis—then buried his head onto the desk with a groan. He was horny as all fuck—plain and simple. He wasn’t going to get anything done at all until his lust was satiated somehow or another. The question, then, was _who_ , because Thom could tell this wasn’t going to be one of those times where he could work it out himself.

Numair, of course, was out of the question. Numair never _explicitly_ said he was straight, but he didn’t need to. Three years had made it clear what Numair’s type was: shapely blonde women. Then there was that incident the first summer after he had met Numair, when one of the other attendees of that academic conference had gotten drunk at the afterparty and slung his arm around Numair’s waist flirtatiously… No. Numair was straight for sure. Unless Numair himself said otherwise, he was straight and completely out of bounds for Thom.

There was always the option to go to the Dancing Dove to find someone to hook up with, Thom supposed, but he’d keep that as his last resort. Nevermind the fact that the bar didn’t even open for another three hours and Thom needed relief _now_ —he would far rather throw himself on the mercies of his friends than onto a stranger.

Thom frowned. Speaking of friends... A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was early enough for Alex to be awake, and there was still hours before Alex had to go into the Dancing Dove for work. That was plenty of time for Thom to get laid, surely, if Alex was in the mood, too.

Was it a bad idea to bed your high school ex in place of someone else? Probably, but it would hardly be the first time he hooked up with Alex in a horny mood after they broke up. Besides, it wasn’t like there was any chance of them getting back together—their relationship was a complete disaster when they were dating and neither of them were so desperate for love to want to go back to that when they worked so much better as best friends with occasional benefits.

It was worth a try, at least. Thom sat up and grabbed his phone to send Alex a text to see if that would be fine with him.

—

Alex sighed in exasperation once he saw Thom’s text message. Just what did Numair do now that had Thom begging to come over for sex? Not that Alex actually cared what it was—he just thought the timing was utterly ironic. Here he was trying to plot how to get Thom into _Numair’s_ bed, and Thom was asking to be in _his_.

As much as Alex _wanted_ to just straight up reply with a “you big dolt the person you’re lusting after is completely and utterly besotted with you so please just fuck him senseless instead”, he knew it would just be futile. The academic conference incident had thoroughly implanted in Thom’s mind that Numair was not only completely unattracted to men, but also utterly repulsed by the advances of men. Only Numair coming out directly and clearing up the misunderstanding would convince Thom otherwise.

Wait… If Thom’s view of Numair was correct, Numair would never dare step foot into the Dancing Dove. Alex couldn’t recall Numair ever going to the Dove during regular business hours, if ever at all. If he could get Numair to visit the Dancing Dove with Thom’s full knowledge, Thom would actually reconsider his views…

A plan was starting to formulate in Alex’s mind, but first, he needed to make sure that Numair _hadn’t_ been to the Dancing Dove before with Thom’s full knowledge. It wouldn’t do anything if Numair had and Thom was just being stubborn about it. The only way Alex was going to be sure was if he called George.

George answered quickly enough. “Hello there, lad. Please tell me you’re not callin’ out, too.”

“No, but _too_? Who called out on you already? Fingers again?”

George chuckled. “Aye, Fingers again indeed. If you’re not callin’ out, what’s got you callin’ me, though? I’m not the one you usually call up for chattin’. That’s usually Thom.”

“Yes, but this is vaguely about him,” Alex said. “I had an idea about how to get Thom to finally realize that Numair isn’t straight, but in order for it to work, Numair has to have never set foot in the Dancing Dove during normal business hours before,” Alex explained. “I don’t remember him ever doing so, but I’m also not there almost every night like you are.”

“Never so much as a toe,” George confirmed. He then chuckled. “Knowin’ you, whatever you’re thinking of is better than the lass’s plot that she’s already done gone and bought the wrapping paper for, so I’m all for it. Need anything else?”

“ _Of course_ she did. It’s Alanna.” Alex shook his head. “The only other thing I need is for you to do something to keep Alanna from answering Thom’s phone calls tonight. I can hardly get Numair into the Dove if Thom gets _her_ to do it instead.”

“Aye, consider it done. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah, later.”

They hung up. Alex then switched back to Thom’s text messages. Now it was time for the easy part: enabling Thom’s poor decisions.

_That desperate, huh? You poor thing. I’ll humor you this once._

_As if you haven’t humored me before,_ was Thom’s retort to that.

Alex rolled his eyes. _I mean that you need to quit pining after Numair and either do something about it or find yourself a fucking boyfriend. The sooner, the better._

_Ugh, seriously? Whatever. I’m coming over now so you can tell me all about it when I get there._

Alex would tell him Alanna’s plot gladly. It would make certain Thom didn’t piddle around too long once he realized his chances weren’t actually zero.

Alex then snickered. Thom would never suspect that _he_ was meddling, too, until it was too late. 


	3. Second Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Numair is oblivious and has a hyperactive imagination, and Thom is locked inside Alex's apartment.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

Numair had thought this day couldn’t possibly have gotten any worse after that disaster of a meeting earlier, but no, the universe just had to go and prove to him that his day could in fact get worse. He just had to go and drop his shirt while opening the door. He just had to go and forget to pick it up. He just had to go and space out in the shower until the water turned cold. He just had to go and panic for gods-know-how-long when he realized he had dropped it. He just had to go out into the hallway shirtless, unaware that Thom was already back from classes. He just had to go and forget that he was shirtless in his surprise at seeing Thom. He just had to go and have a long winded conversation with Thom while shirtless. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

How long would it be before Thom’s mysterious boyfriend found out about it? How long before that mysterious boyfriend came and screamed at him to quit trying to seduce Thom? Or worse, screamed at him to move out? Numair couldn’t afford to move out on his own—not with how meager his stipend was. He was about to be reduced to couch surfing, all because he had forgotten to pick up his shirt before he took a shower.

Gods, what if the boyfriend gave Thom an _ultimatum_ about kicking him out? Thom didn’t do ultimatums—he’d dump the boyfriend just for giving him one. Even so, Thom would end up coming home crying and screaming about how it was all Numair’s fault—that if only he hadn’t forgotten his shirt—!

Numair smacked his face into a pillow to cut off that line of thought. That was how _Ozorne_ would have reacted to an ultimatum, not Thom. Oh, sure, Thom would definitely break up with the guy for giving him an ultimatum, but he wouldn’t come home crying and screaming at Numair over it like Ozorne had in the past. _Thom_ would stubbornly insist upon pretending he was fine and that he never liked the guy that much anyhow. That was how the majority of their fights had started, after all: Thom pretending there was no problem when there was one.

Numair sighed. He hoped it didn’t come to that, though. He loved Thom more than anything else, but he just wanted Thom to be _happy._ If this secret boyfriend of Thom’s made him happy—and Thom’s expression when he was clearly daydreaming about him told Numair he _was_ happy with him—then Numair would be more than happy to step aside. He didn’t want them to break up just because he was having an off day; he’d only want them to break up if they weren’t working out as a couple.

He sighed again. Maybe he was overthinking it, though. Maybe Thom’s boyfriend would find the tale funny, too, rather than reacting like Numair had been trying to _seduce_ Thom. It was hard to tell how a complete stranger you've never seen nor heard a word about would react to something. He was sure they had their reasons for keeping their relationship private, though, and they had no obligation to tell him anything. He’d just have to try and deal with his overactive brain on his own..

Once his heart calmed down, he’d start making dinner. Until then, his head was best friends with this pillow, because Thom didn’t need to hear him _whining_ out his frustrations _._

—

Numair was staring into the pot, waiting for the broth to reach a boil, when the sound of the front door closing registered. He looked up with a frown; Thom had gone back out without even saying so much as a word to him.

Numair sighed. That was fine. They were adults; Thom didn't need to tell him when and where he was going every time he went out. Besides, surely it was a quick errand if Thom hadn’t said anything to him about putting dinner aside.

Rather than pointlessly worry about it, Numair returned his attention to the pot. The only way Thom would return before the broth started boiling was if he had left something in his car, after all.

Once the stew reached the point where he needed only to set a series of timers to check on it periodically, Numair moved to the kitchen bar to start working on his schoolwork. 

He wasn’t tracking how many of the timers had gone off, since each timer had a tag as to what step of the recipe it was notifying him for. Thus, it was only after Numair finished adding the onions and carrots to the stew that it occurred to him that Thom should have come back already if it were in fact a quick errand.

A quick check of the apartment confirmed that Thom was still gone. That was highly unusual. When had Thom ever gone out for over an hour and _not_ told him where he was going and who he’d be with? Then again, Numair knew he was hardly the most observant person; he had never noticed when Thom left to go out with his boyfriend before, after all.

Oh, of course. Numair nodded to himself. That’s where Thom was right now—out on a date with his boyfriend. That’s why he didn’t say anything. There was nothing to worry about—not unless Thom wasn’t back by the time the stew was done in about 40 minutes and didn’t even give him so much as a text warning him that he would be back late.

45 minutes later, Thom still wasn’t back, and still hadn’t sent Numair a text. Numair waited another five minutes before he decided to go ahead and call Thom to figure out how much longer he was going to be out.

It took several rings for Thom to pick up the phone with a grumpy, half-asleep, “What is it?”

Numair chuckled. So Thom had fallen asleep at his boyfriend’s house... That explained why Thom hadn’t sent a text. “I did say I’d tell you when dinner was done, didn’t I? I was wondering when you’d be back so I can figure out what to do with the stew.”

“Huh? What are…” Thom trailed off for a moment, then let out a groan. "Fuck, it’s this late already?! Damn it, Alex, wake me up _before_ you go to work, you dolt!"

Oh, he was at Alexander Tirragen's apartment, then. That answered Numair's long-unasked question of just who Thom had been seeing.

...except, that was _odd_. Why would _they_ hide that they were dating from him? Both of them were openly gay, they were best friends, and they dated before in _high school_. It wouldn’t even be surprising if they decided to get back together. 

Actually, no… Hadn’t Thom told him that he broke up with Alex because they enabled each other’s worst traits too much to be that intimate with each other? That wasn’t the kind of thing that you could just talk out and work out. Thom wasn’t dating Alex, then. But then why was Thom asleep at Alex’s house if it _wasn’t_ because they had sex?

“ _Numair_. Get your head out of the clouds.”

Numair blinked, then let out a reluctant chuckle. Oops. He had spaced out in the middle of a conversation again. “Sorry, what did you say again?” 

“I _said_ that you might as well eat your part of the stew and put the rest up because Alex definitely did this on purpose, and I’m absolutely certain I’m not going to be able to get ahold of Alanna to go get the key from him because he definitely got George to take her phone in with him to the Dove.”

Numair blinked. Huh? “Why would they do _that_?”

Thom made a weird noise. “Because Alex is trying to save me from one of Alanna’s horrible matchmaking plots with a not as horrible one of his own?”

Numair was now even more confused. Didn’t Thom tell Alanna literally _everything_? She’d absolutely know it if Thom was dating someone. She wouldn’t be playing matchmaker with Thom if he was already seeing someone.

...which meant that Thom was definitely single and Numair had been wrong all along about Thom having a boyfriend. All of those times he saw Thom daydreaming about his “boyfriend” was actually Thom daydreaming about a _crush_ instead.

Gods, that really was it, wasn’t it? That’s why he had never seen Thom leave for dates before this—Thom didn’t even _have_ a boyfriend.

Numair gulped. “How… how would locking you in his apartment save you from _that_?”

“That’s…” Thom made another weird noise. “Whatever. Don’t worry about it. I’ll just have to stay here until Alex gets off is all. Which is later than you usually go to sleep so good night, I guess!” Thom then hung up on him. 

Numair stared at his screen for a long while. Thom had actually hung up on him. What was going on? Thom was acting rather strange... 

Numair sighed. He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get to the bottom of _why_ unless he and Thom had this conversation face-to-face. That wasn’t going to happen tonight when Thom was going to be stuck at Alex’s apartment for the rest of the night, though.

Actually, did Thom _really_ need to stay there all night? Surely there was nothing stopping _him_ from going to the Dancing Dove and getting the key from Alex instead. Why hadn’t Thom asked him to do it? That was another question to ask Thom later, Numair supposed.

He had better put dinner away before he left, though. If he kept it warming on the stove, it’d be overcooked by the time the two of them got back, or worse, start a fire.

—

It wasn’t that hard to find the Dancing Dove via GPS, but getting inside to find Alex took a while because it hadn’t occurred to Numair that he didn’t need to wait in the line with all of the club guests when he had George’s number and he wasn’t even a customer—he was only there to get Alex’s apartment key from him. Raoul ribbed him about that for a moment before lightly pushing him through the door.

It wasn't hard to find Alex inside. He was leaning against the wall in plain sight, scanning the bar for a mess that needed to be cleaned up in either sense of the phrase.

Alex smirked once he saw Numair. “Well, color me surprised. I didn’t think Thom would _actually_ ask you to come to his rescue, let alone so soon.”

“He didn’t,” Numair admitted. “It just occurred to me after he hung up on me that there was no reason why I couldn’t get your apartment key from you.”

Alex arched his brow. “He hung up on _you_? Just how did _that_ happen?”

“All I did was ask him why he thought you locking him in your apartment would save him from Alanna’s matchmaking plots… Then he started acting strange and hung up on me. I haven’t a clue _why_.”

“ _Oh_.” Alex snickered. “That would do it… Although, maybe he’ll actually admit to it now that you’ve proved that incident was a one-off thing by walking into here.”

Numair frowned. “Incident? What incident?”

“The after party of that academic conference you two went to the summer after you met?” Alex prodded.

Numair dug in his brain for a moment, trying to think of what Alex could possibly be referring to, but he was drawing a complete blank. He didn’t remember anything at all from that after party. In fact, now that he thought about it, there was a reason for that, wasn’t there?

“If I’m thinking of the right academic conference, then I drank too much that night and have absolutely no memory of even being there,” Numair admitted. “You’re going to have to tell me what happened.”

Alex reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his keys and what looked like a sticky note. “Go and talk it out with _Thom_ , not _me_. I couldn’t tell you anything more than that some random drunk guy there got handsy with you and you definitely weren’t fine with it.”

Numair gulped down his rising dread as he took them from Alex’s hand. Considering that academic conference had been in Thak City, it wasn’t impossible it wasn’t a _random_ drunk man but rather a certain abusive ex of his who still was under the impression that he owned Numair…

He shook away that thought. “I’ll need your address, though.”

“That’s what the sticky note is for.”

Numair looked at the sticky note and saw that indeed, there was an address written on it. Clearly Alex was _expecting_ someone who didn’t know where he lived to get his keys from him that night, but who? It certainly wasn’t _him_.

There was no use in thinking about it. Getting to Thom to figure out what was wrong with him was far more important.


	4. Third Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thom's misconceptions are cleared up but Numair's still have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny how you start making what you *think* will be a minor edit to flesh out a scene more and suddenly you're rewriting the whole entire chapter...

It took all of a second for Thom to regret hanging up on Numair. He had _never_ hung up on Numair before. Numair would realize something was wrong just from that alone, and Numair was a worrier—he would question Thom stubbornly until Numair figured out what was “wrong”. It would be over, then; Numair would know that Thom wanted him as a lover and everything would get _awkward_ between them.

Thom dropped his phone onto Alex's mattress, then fell back onto it himself with a groan. Damn Alanna and her stupid busybody matchmaking schemes. This was all because Alanna decided she was going to _fucking wrap him up as Numair’s birthday gift_ , because of course Alanna would come up with something that ridiculous. He didn’t even doubt Alex for a second when Alex told him that was why exactly Thom needed to find a boyfriend ASAP. Thom wasn’t sure he wanted to know how she expected to get him wrapped up...

But yes, this was definitely Alanna’s fault. Alex _always_ let Thom run away from his problems, and he would have continued to do so, too, if only Alanna had continued plotting to get Raoul and Buri together instead of meddling with his love life, too. 

Now he was stuck here in Alex’s apartment for the rest of the night and had to actually come clean to Numair. Of course, there was no questioning that Thom would much rather be rejected like this—because he had no choice but to talk it out—than to be subjected to Alanna’s plot. He knew that was precisely why Alex was meddling—Alex knew how humiliating it would be to be wrapped up as Numair’s birthday gift, much less when he was just going to get rejected at the end of it. He wanted Thom to get the rejection out of the way beforehand so Alanna would actually drop the whole plan.

And that was just how it would affect _him_. It would be _so_ much worse for Numair if Alanna got her way. He’d spend most of the party wondering where Thom even was, maybe even wondering if he had done something to make Thom angry at him because why else would Thom not be at his birthday party, only to get the completely unwanted surprise of Thom as a present... The whole thing would completely ruin Numair’s birthday party. Even if Numair actually _wouldn’t_ reject him—Thom highly doubted it—it would _still_ ruin it. Thom had no idea why Alanna even thought it was a good idea at all.

Thom rolled over onto his side with a groan. He didn’t want to ruin Numair’s _birthday party_. Not when Numair actually _respected_ him and was so sickeningly sweet to everyone ( _especially_ him). For that matter, what kind of _friend_ would do that? 

He shouldn’t have hung up on Numair. He should have taken Alex’s bait and asked Numair if he’d get the apartment key from Alex. Maybe he _was_ overthinking it and Numair would do it, or maybe Thom could arrange with George to hand Numair the key over by the employee entrance so Numair never even had to go inside.

Thom picked up his phone to call Numair back and ask him, but his resolve lasted only to the lock screen. He dropped his phone back onto the bed with a sigh. He wanted it over with already, yet he also wanted to put the inevitable off as long as possible. It was a paradox, certainly, but he had a love-hate relationship with _having_ emotions, much less _talking_ about them.

He kept flip-flopping between picking his phone up and dropping it back down onto the bed, until finally the room’s chill got to him. Since he was going to be stuck here all night in all likelihood, Thom supposed he might as well take a shower to warm up for the thirty minutes the water heater here would cooperate with him before it shut off. If he was lucky, it may even do something for his mood, even if only fleetingly—any amount of relief was better than nothing at all. 

Thom got up and wandered into the bathroom across the hall, not even bothering to bring his clothes in with him. It wasn’t like anyone was there to notice—let alone care—about his state of undress, nor would there be in the time he was in there.

The shower _was_ relaxing, yet not long enough to make him _relaxed_. Thom turned the shower off as soon as the water turned cold, then started to dry himself off. He was still working on his hair when he heard a door close. At first he thought it was Alex’s neighbor coming home—she _always_ slammed the door behind her loud enough that it could be heard no matter where you were in Alex's apartment—but then footsteps in the hall told him they were in _here_ , for all that made no sense. Not unless somehow Numair went to get the key from Alex without Thom even asking him to… which was actually rather likely, now that Thom thought about it. Numair was sweet and self-sacrificing enough to do that for someone he liked no matter how much it troubled him.

That was confirmed when Numair called out to him hesitantly, trying to figure out where he was. 

Thom sighed. So much for _no one_ being here anytime soon… He needed Numair out of here so he could actually get his clothes.

“Just set Alex’s keys by the door and go back to our place,” Thom told him. “I’ll be out behind you.”

“Why?” Numair asked. “I can wait for you to get ready to go first.”

Thom rolled his eyes. Ever the scientist, Numair couldn’t just listen to a reasonable request—he had to know _why_.

“Well, considering my clothes and my body are on opposite sides of the hallway, if I did that it would be _me_ this time coming out of the shower and into the hallway barely wearing anything because I forgot to bring my clothes into the shower with me.”

“I only dropped my shirt!” Numair protested. “That’s not barely anything!”

“ _That’s_ the part you protest to?” Thom remarked dryly. “Not the part about me coming out of here wearing nothing but a towel?”

“I don’t have a problem with that, though,” Numair said. “You’re wearing a towel at least, and I’m not going to stare at you.”

Well, if Numair didn’t care, Thom didn’t care, either. He’d just have to figure out how to wrap this towel around his waist first.

“There wouldn’t be anything to stare at anyhow,” Thom remarked dryly. He knew what his attractive points were and his torso was _not_ one of them.

“What are you saying? Of course there’d be something to stare at.” 

Numair’s tone suggested he was hurt that Thom thought otherwise. Thom had no clue where to even begin thinking about what _that_ was about, so he didn’t. He opted for dry humor instead.

“If I wrapped the towel _that_ tightly I don’t think I’d even be able to walk. You’re better off waiting for me to put my pants back on if you’re going to stare at my ass.”

Numair made some kind of weird squeak, which was followed by the sound of dropped keys then the door opening and closing.

Fuck… Did Numair think that he meant that in a flirty way? That wasn’t the same kind of reaction Numair gave that drunk asshole, though. It was hard to tell for sure when Numair had been on the other side of the door the whole time, but it seemed more like he was… embarrassed? Oh well. Whatever it was, he’d find out and apologize for it.

Thom went out into the hall—wearing the towel still just in case Numair decided to come back inside after all—then walked over to where Numair dropped Alex’s keys on the floor. Thom picked them up. Something seemed off about them in his hand, though, so he looked at them properly to see why.

There was an electronic car lock dongle on it. Alex drove a _motorcycle_.

Thom burst out into a giggling fit. Numair would come back inside alright... He wasn’t going anywhere with the keys to a vehicle that wasn’t even here.

He took them with him into Alex’s bedroom, then locked the door behind him. Once he was dressed, they would talk.

—

Thom walked into Alex’s living room to the sight of Numair sitting on the couch, sulking like a kid in time out. It was cute on a kid, but on an almost 24 year old man not so much. Still, it was good news, because it meant Numair wasn’t upset—he was just being overdramatic.

Thom sat down next to him as he said, “You really didn’t have to come get me, you know.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I wasn’t doing anything and you clearly didn’t _want_ to stay. It was no trouble at all. The only thing I could have done without was Raoul teasing me for waiting in line like a customer.”

“And no one even tried to get your number in the line?” Thom said in disbelief.

Numair chuckled. “Of course someone did. Three guys did, in fact, but two of them weren’t my type and the third guy was looking for more than I’m capable of giving right now to just anyone,” Numair said.

Thom blinked. _Numair_ had just admitted to finding a guy attractive, which meant he wasn’t straight like Thom had thought. And he didn’t even seem distressed talking about it like he had with that drunken asshole, which was a question in itself.

“What was with you and that drunk asshole at the Thak City conference after party, then?” Thom asked. “The one I had to dump a bucket of ice water on?”

Numair laughed. “Oh, so _that_ was why Varice said he was complaining about you to his family the week after... I didn’t even remember walking into the bar when I woke up the next morning, though, much less you dumping a bucket of water on my asshole ex.”

Thom stared at Numair for a moment, then said, “Well, that was stupid of you, then. You shouldn’t have been drinking when you knew your asshole ex was around, and you definitely shouldn’t have done it without warning me so I could keep an eye on you.”

“I swear didn’t know he was even there until Varice told me that! He was studying to become an avianologist last I knew!”

Thom supposed it was kind of a stretch for Numair to think his ex was there just because there was a bird flight physics simulator in the schedule… He sighed and leaned into Numair’s arm.

“Sorry for jumping to conclusions. I just hate to think of what would’ve happened if we were staying at the conference hotel and I _didn't_ need to find you to leave...”

Numair shuddered. "I'd rather not think about that. In fact, can we not talk about him anymore period? Let’s talk about something else, like… whatever made Alex think locking you in here would get you out of Alanna’s matchmaking plot."

Thom sighed in exasperation. Even if he expected the question from Numair _earlier_ , _now_ Numair had no excuse to remain oblivious. This whole conversation from start to finish was _exactly_ what Alex was hoping to get out of it.

“If you have to ask, then clearly your brain doesn’t have enough calories to function.” Thom stood up. “I’m starting to get hungry, anyways… Let’s go home and eat dinner.”

Numair pouted. “You’re just avoiding the question again.”

“No, you’re just being your usual oblivious self so I’m giving you one last chance to salvage your dignity by figuring it out yourself.” Thom chuckled. “And speaking of which, I should bring Alex back the key or he’ll be worried the whole night that you forgot to lock the door behind you.”

Numair's stomach growled then, and he sighed. “Maybe I do need food after all…”

Thom chuckled. “I told you so. Let’s swap the keys then go.”

—

As Thom parked near the Dancing Dove, it completely sank in that his chances weren’t zero. He couldn’t be certain that Numair _wanted_ to date him, but he couldn’t be certain Numair _didn’t_ want to, either. Sure, Numair had never done anything to possibly suggest he might be attracted to Thom in the past three years, but considering it was Numair that didn’t really mean anything. It wouldn’t even surprise Thom if Numair didn’t even realize his own damn feelings, much less _Thom’s_.

The only problem, perhaps, was if Numair wasn’t ready to be in a long-term relationship. He certainly hadn’t dated anyone for more than two months in the whole time Thom knew him, and Numair _had_ said he rejected that one guy because he “wasn’t capable of giving to just anyone right now” what the man had wanted out of a relationship. Depending on what the man wanted and what exactly constituted “just anyone”, it could spell very different endings to Thom’s confession of wanting to date him.

It was too late to _not_ confess now, though, so Thom set it aside and went into the Dove through the employee entrance. He then headed into the employee break room, where Alex said he’d be waiting when Thom texted him earlier.

As soon as Thom saw Alex, he said, “Thank you, I guess, but what am I going to do _now_?” 

Alex rolled his eyes in that long-familiar “I love you Thom but you’re such a fucking idiot” way as he took his keys out of Thom’s hand.

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re going to quit being a fucking baby about this and go home and ask him to be your boyfriend. Unless you actually _want_ to be his birthday present.”

Thom sighed. Leave it to Alex to get straight to the point. “Of course not, and I have to tell him now anyhow… Either he actually figures out you locked me in your apartment to get _him_ to come here so me and him would have the conversation we had, or I have to tell him over dinner. I don’t think Numair is so oblivious that he couldn’t figure things out from there.”

“I don’t know… He didn’t figure that out even after I told him you’d probably fess up to the reason I did it now that he walked into the Dove,” Alex remarked dryly. “I suspect it hasn’t even occurred to him that he’s an option for the other party in her matchmaking scheme.”

Thom groaned. “Damn it... I hate that you’re right. That dolt is probably convinced I’m in love with some stranger or something stupid like that. I really am going to have to outright ask him out.” He sighed in exasperation. “I don’t understand why we’re even having this conversation… I’ve never cared whether I got turned down or not before; why now?”

Alex lightly squeezed Thom’s shoulder. “Because you actually care about him as a person, and you’re not a self-centered teen like you were when you asked me out.” His sympathy collapsed then and made way for a snicker; he clearly was recalling the complete and utter fuck-up _that_ was. 

Thom rolled his eyes. “I suppose no matter how I confess to him, _that_ will still remain the worst confession I ever made in my entire life.”

“Right.” Then, finally recovering his cool, Alex said, “But Thom… Do you _seriously_ think I would have done what I did if I thought you were going to get dumped at the end of this?”

Thom stared at Alex for a moment as he processed what Alex just said, then groaned. “Alex… Sometimes you make me wonder if you’ve been actively sabotaging my love life to get back at me for that shoddy confession.”

“I think I got back at you for that every time we fucked, actually.” Alex stuck his tongue out briefly before he continued. “I didn’t say anything before because you tend to not believe people when they tell you these kinds of things.”

“That’s a problem with them. It has nothing to do with you.” Thom huffed. “You can’t lie your way out of a cardboard box and you don’t even try to. If _you_ told me Numair looked at me all lovey-dovey, I would have believed you.”

Alex chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind in the unlikely event something like that this happens again.”

Thom snorted. “Right...” He shook his head. “I’ll be leaving, then. I have an oblivious roommate to knock some sense into now.”

“Try not to seduce him tonight,” Alex teased as Thom opened the break room door.

Thom sighed. Yes, keeping his flirty innuendos in check was probably for the best tonight…


	5. Final Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which confessions are made and no misconceptions remain.

As soon as Numair got back home, he let out the lovesick sigh he had been restraining ever since Thom told him he dumped a bucket of ice water on Ozorne’s head, not because he knew Numair and Ozorne’s history but simply because it didn’t look like Numair wanted his attention. It struck Numair so hard with affection for Thom that it took all of Numair’s restraint to not _kis_ s Thom for that right then and there.

Restrain it he did, though, because Numair knew better than to kiss someone who had a long-standing crush on someone else. _Alex_ could get away with it maybe, but Alex and Thom both knew they weren’t getting back together ever. Numair couldn’t. If he fell to the temptation of indulging his unrequited feelings even a little, the moment Thom’s real object of affection took notice of the older Trebond twin the illusion would shatter, leaving Numair with nothing but heartbreak.

Numair shook those thoughts out of his head vigorously. He shouldn’t dwell on what he couldn’t change. Instead Numair wandered into the kitchen and went about reheating the stew while thinking instead of why Thom thought it was obvious what Alex was plotting.

Numair didn’t really know where to even begin thinking about it if it _was_ in fact obvious, though. It would be one thing if he knew the man in question, but Numair was positive he didn’t. He never recalled Thom looking at anyone like he was gone on them before, so Thom’s crush was probably someone he knew from his computing-related classes.

Maybe that was the wrong direction to come at it from, then… What kind of setback could Thom possibly have that would keep him from asking out his crush that Alex thought would be settled by him locking Thom in his apartment? Hmm… Alex had seemed to expect _someone_ to come to the Dancing Dove to get his apartment key from. Maybe Thom wasn’t sure if his crush was into men and Alex thought that if the crush was willing to walk into a gay bar for him as a favor it was more likely he did like men? If that were true, Numair had ruined that plot, then, by getting the key from Alex instead…

Numair’s face fell. He hoped it wasn’t that. No, it couldn’t be. If it was that, why had Alex let him take the key? He would have told Numair his plot instead, surely.

Numair was missing something vital to figure out this puzzle. He was sure of it. Another misconception he had? Something else Thom thought Numair knew about that he actually didn’t? Regardless, he wasn’t going to get anywhere thinking about it, surely.

Thom wasn’t back by the time the stew was reheated, but that was to be expected. The Dancing Dove was west of Alex’s apartment, and Numair and Thom’s apartment was southeast of Alex’s apartment; it would take far longer than a couple extra minutes for Thom to return, especially if he decided to give Alex a piece of his mind about locking him in an apartment he didn’t have a key to (which was likely considering it was Thom).

Numair knew better than to wait for Thom to start eating now, and so went ahead and served himself.

Numair had just finished off the bowl and was in the kitchen getting seconds when Thom returned. Numair grinned at him on sight.

“Your timing couldn’t have been any more perfect. Go ahead and have a seat and I’ll bring you your bowl after I finish refilling mine.”

Pink dusted Thom’s cheeks as he rolled his eyes. “Yes, dear.”

Numair wished the heat that rose to his cheeks was from the steam coming off of the stew on the stovetop, but it wasn’t. It was definitely because even sarcastically, Thom had called _him_ “dear”. Yet again, Thom was making a joke and Numair was trying to take it seriously.

He took a deep breath or several to calm down, then filled Thom’s bowl and brought it to him.

“I’m afraid I’m hitting a brick wall trying to figure out what Alex’s plot was, though,” Numair said as he set the bowl down. “Have you told me who you liked before, perhaps, and I forgot or wasn’t actually paying attention or something?”

“No, telling you that was exactly what I was afraid to do before this,” Thom said.

Oh, so Thom hadn’t talked about his crush around Numair because of what happened with Ozorne, then... That ruled out anything that required him to know who Thom’s crush was.

Numair went back for his own bowl as he said, “Not that, then.. Is there anything I could possibly not know that would keep me from realizing what it is?”

“Seriously, Numair? Did you even hear what I just said?”

“That you hadn’t wanted to talk about your crush to me before because you thought the incident with my ex meant I was uncomfortable with the subject of gay relationships deep down?”

“That is _not_ what I said; that’s what you think I _meant_ , misconceptions and all. I meant exactly what I said.”

Numair set his bowl down on the bar, then thought about what exactly Thom had said as he slid into his chair at the kitchen bar.

“You said you were afraid to tell me who you liked before this, right? I don’t see how that’s different from what I said...”

Thom huffed. “Would you quit trying to push me off on someone nonexistent already? I’d like my sister to _not_ wrap me up as your birthday gift, thank you very much.”

Numair’s spoon clattered against the side of his bowl as his brain short circuited. Did… Did Thom just say that Alanna was plotting to wrap Thom up as _his_ birthday gift? _He_ was the one Alex had been trying to get into the Dancing Dove in the first place? _He_ was the one Thom had been daydreaming about all those times? All this time he had been holding back his affections and taking care to not do anything that might come off as him trying to steal Thom from his lover, and he was just stepping back in favor of _himself_?

No, no, no. That couldn’t be it. There was no way he could possibly be so lucky. He must have misheard him.

“I’m sorry, but can you please repeat that? I don’t think I heard that last part right.”

“Oh, you probably did hear me right. Alanna always comes up with the most ridiculous schemes,” Thom said, his voice shaking like he was laughing inside. “I said she was plotting to wrap me up as your birthday present. I have no idea how she expected to actually get me to stay still long enough to let her actually wrap me up, let alone agree to it in the first place, but she always has tunnel vision when she’s plotting things, now, doesn’t she?”

Gods, did Numair want to melt into a puddle on the floor now. All these years he had held back from admitting he was in love with Thom, thinking that Thom was dating someone already, and Thom was not only _not_ seeing anyone, but also gone on _him_. He could have been dating Thom _years_ ago if only he had been honest with him; instead, he had been stepping back in favor of _literally no one_ and to no one’s benefit at all.

“You were right,” Numair said with a pout. “I _do_ feel stupid now.”

Thom laughed. “Yes, I did warn you, didn’t I? But don’t worry your head off about it. I’m going to feel stupid for pouring my heart out to you if you leave me hanging in suspense too long, after all.”

Oh, right. Numair needed to admit his own feelings now, didn’t he?

“I’d… I’d like to be a couple, if you’re willing. I’m... just in shock. Until you told me Alanna was targeting you in her latest matchmaking plot, I was utterly convinced you already had a boyfriend.”

Thom snorted. “Numair, I haven’t dated anyone since… When was it again? Oh, right. My last summer as an undergrad.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how you even managed to make _that_ assumption. I’d have said something about going out on a date if I was going out with someone.”

There was the mortification again. “I… thought that maybe you were just being discreet about it...”

“Uh huh. And when have I been out long enough for a date without you knowing who I was going to be with again? Not counting earlier, of course.”

“Never,” Numair admitted with a sigh. “Which I realized once _that_ misconception was cleared up… Just… Not the possibility that you liked _me_.”

Thom got down from his chair and moved over to Numair to wrap his arm around his shoulder. “It’s fine, Numair,” Thom murmured into his ear with soft affection. “I’m not surprised _you_ of all people gave me an imaginary boyfriend, really. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

Numair nodded, then turned his face towards Thom. The height of the chair Numair was sitting in was just right for Thom’s face to be level with Numair’s, which also meant it was the perfect height for them to comfortably kiss if they wanted to. Numair wanted to, at least, so he cupped Thom’s cheek, stroking the edge of Thom's neatly trimmed beard with his thumb. Thom's eyes soon fluttered shut and he shifted closer, lips parted in full consent.

Numair kissed Thom slowly and sweetly, knowing that this was neither the time nor the place for lovemaking. Never mind the fact that Thom likely wouldn’t be in the mood for more sex after going over to Alex’s for it (Numair tried not to think about the fact that he was likely to blame for it)—Thom drank in that simple affection like it was water in a desert and he was dying of thirst. Thom _needed_ sweetness right now, not more spice.

Eventually, though, Thom pulled away and wisely called it quits before their dinner could get cold. Numair relented easily enough; there would be more kisses between them in the future.

Thom chuckled on the way back to his seat. “You know, it could be worse, too. Has anyone told you about how George found out Alanna and him were dating?”

Numair raised his brow. “I’m afraid no one has told me about that. Am I right to think you’re implying they were dating and George didn’t realize it?”

“Oh, absolutely. Half a year after Alanna asked George out on a date for the first time, George confronted everyone else in our friend group about us constantly making other plans whenever Alanna was trying to make plans for us to all go out together. He told us he appreciated us all trying to help him out by playing matchmaker between them, but she wasn’t enjoying the night out like she ought to lately because of us canceling on her all the time.” Thom snickered. “When I realized what he was lecturing us about, I discreetly called Alanna so she could hear this nonsense, too, and come there to fix it. Alex and I were the only ones who knew Alanna had decided to try and date George at the time, though, so the others were so confused because Alanna hadn’t made any group plans. Alex can’t lie to save his life, though, and burst out into hysterics, which made George think Alex and I were supposed to tell the others but didn’t because I wanted to play matchmaker. Alanna stomped in at this point, and after George tried to defend his actions, Alanna sighed and told him, ‘George, nobody has been flaking out on me to play matchmaker. I never invited anyone else out in the first place because they were _motherfucking dates_.’ You should have seen his face when it finally sunk in that he had been dating her for half a year without realizing it, and that Alanna had actually been upset all those times because he was being awfully chaste.”

“Yes, I suppose coming from George that _is_ worse,” Numair said with mirth. “And that is proof enough that assumptions don’t have a place in any relationship.”

“They really don’t, but especially not with us,” Thom agreed. “Not after we’ve been waltzing around each other for years because of misconceptions.”

Numair agreed with a humm. “I love you.”

“I figured as much, considering _Alex_ noticed you had feelings for me.” Thom shifted his legs. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able say the same thing in return, though… It has always felt _wrong_ to say that to anyone other than Alanna, no matter how much I care for them.”

“You don’t have to,” Numair said in complete understanding. “If I needed that to be happy, I’d have moved on already. You’re allergic to expressing your emotions verbally.”

Thom smiled at him wryly. “I really am, aren’t I? But thank you all the same. I wouldn’t want you to think I wasn’t serious about you because of it... I’m more serious about you than I’ve ever been about anyone else.”

Numair beamed back at him. That was an “I love you” enough for him. “I don’t doubt you for a second.”

—

Numair continued to keep Thom company while his boyfriend rinsed off the day’s dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. When Thom finished doing that and moved on to washing the pots and pans that didn’t belong in the dishwasher, Numair decided to hazard a question.

“Do you want to do anything after this?”

Thom's expression was fond yet exasperated as he replied, “I haven’t written a _single damn word_ on my thesis yet today, and I really ought to at least finish the discussion section before your birthday party... If you don’t mind, though, I’d like to use you as a pillow tonight.”

Numair grinned. “That’s fine with me, but don’t you think that _maybe_ if you didn’t go over to Alex’s you would have made progress on it?”

“No, because that was _precisely_ why I went over there,” Thom retorted. “I spent far too goddamn long staring at my thesis and making no progress because all I could think about was how much I wanted to shove you down onto something and ravish you.”

Numair had to brace himself against the counter as desire suddenly bubbled up into a rolling boil within him. Gods, did he walk right into _that_ one. He had figured Thom went over to Alex’s as a result of him dropping his shirt earlier, so why did he have to go and have Thom confirm that? Now he was that turned on himself.

Thom looked over at him and grimaced. “Oh, fuck… I wasn’t even meaning to seduce you…” He sighed. “Oh, forget it. We’re going to bed _now_.”

“But… your thesis… And surely you’re already worn out?” Numair protested far too weakly to be convincing.

“I’ll manage to get it done somehow,” Thom said as he dried his hands off. “And I had a rather long nap before you called me. I think I have energy aplenty to satisfy you with.” He raised his brow. “Unless you don’t want to go that far this soon?”

“No, I… I’m fine with it if you are.”

Thom smirked at him, then grabbed Numair by the wrist and started to drag him out of the kitchen.

“The dishwasher,” was Numair’s final objection. “You didn’t turn it on yet.”

“I’ll do it afterwards.”

Numair had no further objections, then. He went along willingly.


	6. The Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which events lead to Alanna finding out she doesn't need to wrap up Thom in gift wrap anymore.

Numair woke up the next morning to the warmth of skin-on-skin contact and a mop of red hair resting on his chest near his shoulder, disavowing immediately any ridiculous notions he might have had that yesterday was an intricate lucid dream. Thom truly was his boyfriend now. He wasn’t dreaming; this was reality.

Numair shifted his arm to drape it around Thom’s waist. Thom stirred, but only to snuggle closer.

Would waking up like this ever cease to feel like a dream? If it would, Numair hoped it would be a long time before that happened. He wanted to keep finding joy in the simple things like waking up with Thom pressed up against him as long as possible.

Numair was content enough to linger like this—at least until the alarm went off. Numair tried to get up to turn it off, but Thom seemed determined to cling to him even tighter. It was cute for only a couple seconds before the alarm’s blaring started to grate on Numair’s nerves.

Numair sighed. “Thom, I love you but my alarm is shrieking at me and it is _not_ a pleasant sound.”

Thom grumbled about it, but he let go of Numair all the same and got up himself. Numair slid his legs over the edge of his bed towards where his phone was laying on the nightstand, then grabbed his phone and turned the alarm off.

Thom, of course, took that opportunity to hug Numair from behind and nuzzle his nose against Numair’s neck. Numair chuckled as Thom’s beard tickled his neck in the process.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried yesterday was all an intricate lucid dream, too,” Numair said with bemusement. 

“No, that’s just you.” Thom pressed his lips against Numair’s neck, making Numair shiver in pleasure. “I’m just doing it to make sure _you_ realize it’s not a dream.”

“I _know_ it’s not. I woke up next to you—that’s proof enough.” Numair chuckled. “Not that I mind the additional reminder.”

“Of course you don’t. I think we established already last night you _very much_ enjoy my touch,” Thom teased.

Numair’s face burned at the reminder. “And you enjoy teasing me too much.”

“Only because you’re cute when you’re flustered,” Thom said. “And you _do_ like it.”

“Only from _you_ ,” Numair mumbled, because it was true—it was only the way Thom looked at him as he teased him that made the embarrassment worth it several times over.

“Is it, now? I’m touched.” Thom pulled away, though only to move to Numair’s side. “So, who is taking a shower first this morning?”

The question was so unexpected that it took Numair a moment to process it, much less process that Thom had _not_ asked him if he wanted to take a shower _together_. Numair declined to share that mistake with Thom, though, because Numair rather liked his showers to _stay_ ‘me’ time.

“You should take yours while I make breakfast,” Numair said.

Thom chuckled. “Yes, I suppose that would be the most effi—oh, _fuck_.”

Numair turned his head towards Thom at the sudden expletive. Thom’s face was flushed, and he appeared to have taken a sudden interest in counting his fingers.

Numair opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, only to then realize it himself. Thom had never gone back out to turn on the dishwasher, let alone to wash the frying pan from breakfast yesterday morning.

Well, it wasn’t the end of the world. Numair wrapped his arm around Thom’s shoulder and pressed his lips to the redhead’s forehead.

“I guess we’ll just have to do it the other way around, then,” Numair said in attempted reassurance. “I take a shower while you wash what we need for breakfast, then I make breakfast while you take yours.”

“I suppose…”

Thom still seemed down on himself for making the mistake in the first place, though, and Numair didn’t like that at all. What could he do to get Thom back in a good mood? What was something that would instantly brighten him up that Numair could do in the moment? It would be far easier to come up with an idea if Numair had Alanna to bounce ideas off of, because she knew how to deal with Thom’s moods better than anyone else.

Wait. _Alanna._ If there was anyone Thom loved to tease more than Numair, it was Alanna.

“Or we could go ambush Alanna at her usual coffee shop so you can rib her about now having a person’s worth of gift wrap and no one to wrap up in it now?” Numair suggested.

As expected, Thom brightened up instantly. “Could we really? You know Alanna is going to tease us once she finds out we’re dating now.”

“Knowing that it’ll make your day? Absolutely.”

Thom grinned. “I knew I liked you for a reason. I’ll still finish washing the pot and pan and turn on the dishwasher while you’re showering, though.”

Numair grinned back. “It’s a date, then.”

—

Normally, Alanna would not _truly_ wake up in the morning until she made her way to the coffee shop nearest to her and George’s apartment to buy and down her morning coffee. However, a glimpse of Thom and Numair on the other side of the window of said coffee shop, sitting next to each other in a booth and very obviously flirting with each other, was shocking enough to wake Alanna up like she had already downed her usual 32-ounce infernal black brew. 

“About damn time,” Alanna grumbled to herself as she walked over to the door. Even if she was awake _now,_ she still needed the caffeine if she was going to get through another hellish shift at the hospital without falling asleep.

Once Alanna had her coffee, she made her way over to the two lovebirds. Thom said something and winked at Numair; Numair’s shoulders shook with laughter in response. Clearly the two of them were too busy flirting to even notice she was there. This would be fun.

Alanna set her drink loudly on the table across from them. “So. I see you two _finally_ got a fucking clue.”

Thom rolled his eyes with a hint of smirk. “Hello to you, too, Alanna. I’m surprised you’re actually _awake_ enough to be teasing this early in the morning.”

Damn it. Thom _had_ noticed her. It seemed as though Thom hadn’t extended that warning to Numair, however; their tall friend was pointedly looking outside the window with flushed cheeks with his mouth covered by his hand. Knowing Thom, he probably didn’t say anything _precisely_ to get that reaction from Numair.

Alanna pushed that thought aside. Thom’s preferences had nothing to do with _her_. “Of course I’m awake. Since when were you two so lovey-dovey?”

“Oh, ever since Numair forgot to take a shirt with him when he took a shower last night,” Thom dismissed.

“I didn’t _forget_ it; I _dropped_ it,” Numair insisted.

“Details, details. In the end it’s the same thing. You were shirtless and utterly attractive, and the rest was history.”

Alanna frowned. "You can't _seriously_ expect me to believe you've _never_ saw him shirtless when you've lived with each other for _three fucking years_. Especially not with _him_.”

Thom shrugged his shoulders. “It’s the truth, though. Mr. Oblivious here was trying so hard to _not_ seduce me away from my imaginary boyfriend that he quite miraculously managed to not forget his shirt for three whole years.”

“ _Drop_ it,” Numair corrected again. His blush now extended to his ears.

Alanna couldn’t help it—the truth behind why Numair hadn’t been doing anything was so absurdly ridiculous yet so _Numair_ that she burst out into giggles. Mr. Oblivious indeed...

“Only you, Numair… Only you.” She shook her head. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you two love birds alone on your date, but don’t tease Numair _too_ much, brother dearest. It’s not the weekend yet.”

Thom rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I love you, too.” 

He stood up and gave her a hug, which she gladly returned. She then walked off.

Alanna had only just made it out of the coffee shop when she received a text message. She stopped to check it. It was from Thom.

_Good luck trying to find a new gift to wrap up in all of that gift wrap you bought. :P_

Alanna turned to where her brother and Numair were seated and glared at Thom. He only waved back with a smirk. She cursed, then stomped off back to her apartment fuming mad.

Who told Thom about that?! It was fucking Alex, wasn’t it?! She was _soooo_ going to give him a piece of her mind next time she saw him, damn it!

Though, Alanna realized once her temper settled down that Thom _did_ have a point. What _was_ she going to do with all of that gift wrap now? She didn’t need a human’s worth of gift wrap to wrap up a _book_.

Actually… Buri’s birthday was soon, too, wasn’t it? She could just wrap Raoul up as a present instead. She’d need to buy more gift wrap, though; Raoul was a full-grown tree to her brother’s twiggy bush.

Alanna cackled and continued onwards, not learning a lesson from this at all.


End file.
